Drinking Alone, Except with Two
by AcreuBall
Summary: Whatever the problem Rarity faced, there was always a Spike and a wine for it. She was confident he had gotten over his crush on her long ago, and he had since come to be a dear friend who she relied on for support and companionship. And surely he feels the same way towards her.


Spike set down a stack of parchment next to several bolts of cloth that were organized neatly on a shelf and let out a breath. It had been a proper trek from the library to Carousel Boutique, with the wind that evening attempting to dispossess him of the papers all the while. The tower of parchment teetered as the dragon backed away, and he darted forwards to put a claw on the top of the stack to keep it in a pile. After years of assisting Twilight, however, carrying around even monstrous stacks of paper was nothing. And now that he had grown to the same height of a pony, Spike found many things much less difficult than he once had.

"Thank you so much, Spike. You really saved me!" said Rarity.

"So... you just absolutely needed all this parchment?" asked Spike, looking over his shoulder at her.

"Yes."

"At six in the evening."

"Mhmm."

"...Alright," Spike said. He let up his claw, carefully backing away. Once sure that the parchment would remain stacked, he turned around to face Rarity, who was smiling at him. "Glad I could help, then."

But Spike's eyes were drawn to Rarity's work area. He glanced around. Carousel Boutique was far more clean than it had any right to be, as Spike knew Rarity should have been in the middle of a large order from Canterlot. As he looked around, he noticed there were pencils lined up in a tidy row on the storage shelf next to the fabric, and a glance at the work desk revealed Rarity's red glasses to be daintily centred atop the pincushion. The untimely, and seemingly desperate, grasp at a sense of order was not lost on him.

Spike had a pretty good idea what was going on. He said a quick farewell and moved to open the door to leave. He hesitated before putting his claw to the doorknob, though. If his hypothesis was correct, he wouldn't be needing to do that. And, growing up with Equestria's most studious mare, he found his hypotheses were rarely wrong.

"Wait," came the predicted call from the unicorn. "Would you like to stay for a glass of wine?"

Spike frowned, rolling his eyes as he turned around. It seemed he had been correct on all counts. "Rarity, I thought you said this one was different." Spike angled his gaze at her. "That you couldn't possibly let him go."

"I did... I thought—" she broke off, her breath catching in her throat, and she tried to hide a small sniff.

The dragon rubbed at his head with a claw, sighing deeply. "Alright, alright." Spike approached the threatening-to-be-distraught unicorn. Putting a claw on her withers, he guided her over to the couch. "I didn't have any other plans tonight, anyway. Now just sit here for a moment, I'll be right back." Spike left her, going to the kitchen.

He opened the door to the large wine cabinet that stood in the corner of the kitchen. With competence accrued from years of practice, he sorted through the selection of bottles before picking one up. Then he sighed and set it back. Rarity had been really set on that stallion—notably more than usual. It would take more than the usual break-up wine, he reasoned. Leaning down, he reached far into the back corner of the cabinet. Taking care not to tactlessly select one of Rarity's Celebration Wines, he reached over to the In Case of Emergency Wines, selecting from around the middle of the the proverbial pack (nopony had died, after all). He picked out a bottle and set it on the counter.

It seemed no matter what the issue Rarity had, there was a Spike and a wine for it. Spike tried to think exactly how long he had been doing this for her. It was well before he had been of drinking age, as he recalled that he had already been in the habit of coming to her emotional aid, by the time he first had had a glass of wine with her. And it hadn't been until much later that he found he was thoroughly enjoying his glass—or six—of wine.

With a deft movement, Spike stuck his claw into the cork and popped it out. He poured a small splash into one of the deep, wide red wine glasses he had gotten out. After swirling it a few times, he tossed it back, and smacked his lips—Rarity had told him the full complexity of flavour only comes out when air is added into a sip. Yes, that would do nicely, he concluded, picking up the bottle and the two glasses and carrying them to the other room.

He set down the glasses on the small table in front of the couch, then poured two large servings. Spike sat down next to Rarity, and they clinked their glasses together before each taking a sip.

"Oh, this is quite lovely, isn't it?" Rarity mused, glancing at the crimson liquid in her glass.

"Yeah," Spike agreed, "a good amount of body to it, hey? And what's that flavour coming through? It's nice."

"You'll have to look at the bottle, but I think that might be black currant."

They were silent for a while as they drank their wine.

Spike let out a breath. "So what happened with this one?"

Rarity carefully set her glass down, before breaking into loud, unrestrained tears. Spike took one last sip of his wine before setting it down, and put his arm around Rarity, pulling her close. She wrapped her forelegs around him, burying her face in his chest as she sobbed.

Unbidden, the image of him trying to proffer a shoulder to cry on back when he barely came up to her withers sprang to his mind, and he tried not to chuckle. Now, being slightly taller than her, he felt rather less ridiculous about the gesture—but he couldn't deny he really had been a hopeless case back then.

Spike recalled the excitement that had exploded in him the first time he had gone to comfort Rarity and she had accepted his company even before she was ready to face their friends. It embarrassed him now to think of it, but back then he had taken that as a sign that he might have had a chance with Rarity. And soon, it wasn't just when Rarity was having a crisis that she called on him, but often when she just wanted some company or simply a break from whatever project was wearing her down at the time.

At first, he had written off the lack of romantic development as a simple matter of him being too young (and short), then later he had thought it was because he was a dragon, and she a pony. Now, however, he could see things for what they were.

Spike brushed his claw through Rarity's mane as her sobbing began to show signs of slowing. It wrecked her curls, but he knew it tended to calm her down a bit all the same. He looked down at the mare.

Of course, she wasn't any less gorgeous to him now than she ever was. Perhaps quite the opposite. But he took comfort in the fact that he knew how things were between them, and let the familiarity and ease of the friendship they shared settle on him. No longer did her every action, every touch, every word cause his head to spin around itself as he searched for some hidden romantic meaning to apply to it.

It had been rather selfish of him, he could see now, that he used to look forward to her breakups. He saw them as an opportunity to get closer to her and subtly present her with an alternative. No, he could see now that she really was upset, and that hadn't been fair of him. Though it was true that Rarity often made a bigger deal out of things like this than they typically might warrant, it couldn't be denied that the things she felt were what they were. She just tended to feel things a great deal more than most ponies did. And comforting her like this was something that he could do for her.

Rarity eventually got herself under control, and pulled away from Spike. "Thanks, Spike, I don't know what I'd do if you weren't around. I just..." She levitated up her wine glass, swirling the liquid around. "I really thought he was 'the one.' More so than usual, even!" The mare sighed, and took a sip. Her eyes welled up again. "I'm going to die alone."

Spike made a valiant effort not to roll his eyes, but failed spectacularly. "You're not going to die alone. There's an awesome stallion out there for you somewhere that you just haven't met yet."

Rarity sniffed for a moment. "Spike, that is woefully clichéd and terribly superficial—but it does make me feel a bit better." She gave a thin smile.

"Hey, it may be terribly clichéd, but that doesn't mean it's not true," Spike said. "You really are a pretty great mare—you just forget to act like it sometimes." Spike's face was an impenetrable mask.

Rarity looked up at him, struck into silence.

"Or maybe what it is, is you forget that you need to _stop _acting and just _be _a pretty great mare, sometimes, too. Either way, there's secretly a great mare in there somewhere that somepony's bound to notice eventually."

Rarity's eyebrow began to climb higher.

"Hard to imagine that, yes, I know. But, as much as you try to hide it, it's just a matter of time before you slip up and somepony sees the awesome mare beneath the layers of makeup and superlatives."

He got all the reaction from her that he could've hoped for, with a huff, an indignant hair flip, and both shocked and disapproving exclamations. Rarity stared daggers at him for a moment—the dragon never breaking his composure through the whole display—before smiles split both their faces, and the two of them laughed.

"Oh, how I miss the cute little Spikey-Wikey with the hopeless crush. You've grown such spines since then!"

"Hey, what's to say I don't still have a hopeless crush on you?" Spike said with a wink.

Rarity chuckled. "Oh, yes..." She waved her hoof dismissively, looking away. She froze for a moment, then looked back. Then she gave another tittering little laugh. "But we both know..." Then her face fell slightly. "Of course... but you wouldn't—" Rarity's eyes widened. "Unless you mean to say..."

Spike smiled, blushing only a little bit.

"Oh, Spike! Sweet Celestia, I—"

Spike laughed. "It's fine, don't worry about it. I'm just bugging you." Rarity didn't look convinced. "Seriously, it's nothing. Like... a silly crush. Nothing like way back when. Like, I think you're pretty or whatever. That's it!" Rarity gave him a pointed glance, raising her eyebrow. "Would I have made a joke about if it were a big deal?"

"I don't know—would you?" Rarity asked.

Spike's smile fell a little, but he waved his claw as if to disperse the issue from the air. "Seriously, it's nothing. It's great what we've got going between us. Just like this, or whatever."

"Do you promise me?" asked Rarity. "I really couldn't bear the thought of coming to you like this if you are harbouring romantic feelings towards me." Rarity looked away. "That'd be simply monstrous of me to put you through something like that." The oddly subdued way in which Rarity spoke made Spike look over at her. "I thought... you were past your attraction to me when I first started coming to you like this, or I wouldn't have—"

Spike put a claw on her shoulder, cutting her off. "Yeah, I get it. No, really, it's all fine. And I definitely wouldn't want anything like that making stuff any different between us than how it is now." Spike leaned back over to his spot on the couch, picking up his wine and taking a sip.

"Anyway," he said, "at least you're not thinking about that completely ridiculous stallion you finally dumped."

"Well... I am now. Thank you very much for that." Rarity picked up a slight smile. "And what do you mean, 'ridiculous'?"

"What, you're serious? Now that he's old news you should at least be able to admit that." Rarity looked rather defensive. "Okay, what about that hat of his?" Spike asked critically.

Rarity frowned. "Oh... well, I can't say I'm going to miss that hat."

"And that—from the shining princess of ridiculous hats." Spike lifted his glass.

"Perhaps... he was a little ridiculous," Rarity said, with a glance to the side.

"As in, 'Mm, yes, I happened across a little Ursa Major just the other evening,' " Spike said, closing his eyes and stroking his moustache that wasn't there.

"Spike!" Rarity gave him a playful shove. Then she sighed. "He sure was romantic, though."

"Maybe if you spell 'sappy', 'plastic', and 'phony' with all the wrong letters."

"Oh, you're just being jealous now," Rarity said. Then she froze, glancing over at Spike.

After only a slightly perceptible hesitation, Spike said, "Jealous of what? Having you bat your eyes at me every two minutes? And that endless swooning? Have you ever swooned in front of a mirror before? I'm not sure you realize exactly how it makes you look." Spike smiled.

Rarity returned his smile with a hint of relief. Then she stuck her chin in the air. "I swoon just as gracefully as I do everything else."

"That really doesn't reflect well on everything else you do."

"Spike! I would be offended if I didn't feel so much better about the whole thing now," she said with a smile. Rarity sounded a bit wistful, but she had a particular look in her eye that Spike recognized as a sign the worst was over.

She took a sip of her wine and let out a contented sigh. "Really, I've hardly had a moment to myself that wasn't spent either working or spending time with _him_. It really is nice to have some time alone and a good bottle of wine, like this."

"So what, I don't count?" Spike asked, an angled grin on his face.

Rarity gave him a condescending look. "Obviously I don't mean a_lone_ alone. You should know that by now, Spike." But a touch of a something else shadowed over her expression, and she glanced away.

Rarity tossed back the rest of the wine in her glass and lifted the bottle to pour herself another. A tiny splash was all that came out of it, however. Spike got up and walked over. "Here, let me get that," he said. He took the bottle out of her magic's aura and tilted it over the glass. Then, putting both hands around the neck of the bottle, he twisted them a few times, as if wringing out a cloth, making a show of intense physical exertion. One final drop fell into the glass. "Nope, it's dry," he said, ceasing his miming act. "I'll get another?"

"Yes, please do," said Rarity, giggling—though it was short-lived.

Spike went over to the wine cabinet in the room over. "Where should I grab this one from?" he called back to her.

"Same as before," came her reply.

The dragon stopped short, then went to glance back into the other room. "Really? The same section?" It was impossible that Rarity was unaware the first bottle had been an Emergency Wine.

"Yes. Perhaps a little farther back with this one, actually." He hesitated a moment, then nodded wordlessly and grabbed a bottle as directed. Bringing the uncorked bottle and fresh wine glasses back, he poured each of them a serving.

"What's... the occasion for this one?" Spike asked.

Rarity looked away from him. The sun was setting, and the room had been growing steadily darker. The gaslamp beside the couch caught the cerulean glow of Rarity's magic as she lit it up. It sputtered a bit, then held a steady flame for a moment before flickering again. "Oh, it's nearly out of fuel. I meant to refill it this afternoon." The unicorn didn't bother turning on any other lights in the room, however.

Spike's gaze hadn't lifted from Rarity. She turned to look at him. Her expression was relaxed, but there was a heaviness he could feel in her eyes.

"Perhaps... this one's for you," she said finally. Spike remained quiet. Rarity broke away, looking down at her glass. "Please... don't pretend you were kidding. I know you, Spike. I know that was—"

"To my hopeless unrequited crush, then," Spike cut her off, raising his glass in the air. Rarity didn't raise hers, so he made a clinking noise with his mouth and tossed back the wine.

"How long?" asked Rarity. Spike didn't answer. "How long, Spike?"

The silence in the room seemed to ring out around them. The expanses of Carousel Boutique spread back into darkness as the last light of the sun slipped away, the light of the reading lamp doing little to illuminate anything beyond the couch.

"Always."

The wine in the unicorn's glass caught the dim light, glinting a deep red as she lifted it to her lips.

"You don't seem very surprised," said the dragon.

Rarity closed her eyes, and held them shut for a moment, before turning away, setting her wine glass down. "Maybe... I suspected." Her voice wavered. "You had changed a lot from the baby dragon Twilight brought with her from Canterlot. I thought that you might have—well, I suppose I convinced myself that you had gotten over the crush. That that was all it had been. That it was okay to come to you like I did."

Rarity looked across the room, the far window being the only visible thing to indicate that there was even a wall there, otherwise hidden in the dark. "I suspected—but I pretended I didn't. Because..." she sighed—her voice catching slightly, "you always make me feel so much better," she said quickly. She turned her gaze back to Spike, tears gathering at the edges of her eyes. Then, Rarity set her brow and closed her eyes, chasing back the tears. "But that's simply terrible." The dragon opened his mouth, but Rarity cut him off. "No, it's horrid, Spike—it's selfish of me, and you can't go on like this. This has stretched on and on, far longer than it ever should have."

"I told you, I don't mind," said Spike. Rarity frowned, but Spike waved his claw. "I've come to realize I've got far too much swag for any of the fillies around here to handle. It's not like I'm missing out on anything."

"You're wasting your life on me. You _have _been wasting your life on me."

"Rarity, dragons live a long time. It could go on for a hundred years like this between us and you'll only have managed to waste a tiny fraction of my life." Spike took a sip of his wine. "Seriously, I got life to spare. If I can do even this much for you, I don't mind."

"Spike..." Rarity trailed off as tears fell down her cheeks. "There's no way I can accept you doing something like that—"

"Don't..." Spike began, cutting her off, "don't mistake this as me thinking I was being all selfless, or something." The corner of his mouth turned up in a mockery of a smile. "I mean... our entire relationship is pretty much based on me wanting to get under your tail."

"Spike!" Rarity exclaimed. "That's just crass. I don't believe it was just that."

The dragon grimaced and looked to the side. "Whatever euphemism you want to use for it, that's the long-and-short of it. Well, maybe you can still call this friendship—if 'friendship' means that you pretend my intentions are platonic and I pretend I'm not totally in love with you."

"But... what we have... you're breaking my heart," Rarity said quietly.

"There's no way this is completely a surprise."

"Well... I suppose not." Rarity looked up at Spike. "Still... and even just earlier you said you wouldn't want anything to change, though!" She picked up a bit of fervour. "Why did you say that, then? That didn't sound fake to me."

Spike didn't reply right away, fiddling with the wine glass where it sat on the table. Then he sighed. "I... suppose you're right. That wasn't fake." He looked up. "It's just... being around you is way better than not being around you, you know?"

Rarity held his gaze, evenly, though her eyes glistened. "We need to stop spending time together like this," she said with a tone of finality.

"No, wait, I don't... think that's what I want at all," said Spike. "I'd rather things just stay like they have been."

"That's only because you haven't ever properly gotten over me! If you did that, you wouldn't feel—"

"That sure sounds easy when you put it like that," Spike said. "In fact... oh, yes, here's the switch, I think if I—oh, wait."

"But Spike..." Rarity turned away. "I just can't bear the thought anymore, that every time—"

"Then don't. Don't think about it," Spike said, a lightness back in his voice. He reached over to put his claw on the side of Rarity's face, gently turning her to face him. "Forget we even talked about this. And I'll still be here, and nothing will have changed." He took his claw away from her face and brushed it over his spines. "And now that my growth spurt's done, I should even still be the same size. Well, for several centuries at least—as long as I keep my hoard relatively small." He drank from his wine glass.

"Besides," he continued, "this wishy-washy relationship is probably for the best, anyway. If we were in a proper relationship, the fact that you're going to die in a short sixty years or so would be so much more pressing of an issue."

"Spike—be serious," Rarity said.

The dragon turned his head away. "I kind of am."

They sat for a while, the silence setting back in. The lamp flickered, chasing around the shadow being cast by the bottle of wine on the small table. Rarity adjusted her sitting position on the couch. She let out a breath.

"Maybe... there is an option there, despite that," she said.

"Yeah, like I said, just stop worrying about it."

"No," Rarity said, moving closer to him. "A real option. I wonder if..." she trailed off, glancing again around the room, but it was too dark to pick out anything to rest her eyes on. "Perhaps I haven't given the idea of—"

"Okay, stop right there," said Spike.

"I haven't said anything yet!" Rarity snapped.

"I know what you're going to say, and I think that's the wine talking."

"You know it isn't that."

"And you know I'm not looking for your pity, right? I don't want anything just because you feel sorry for me."

Rarity traced her hoof along the edge of the cushion, looking to the side. "What if I tell you that it's something I want?"

"Then I'll tell you you're wrong." Spike followed Rarity's gaze to the dark corner of the boutique. "Nothing's changed here. If having a proper relationship with me is something that you actually wanted, we'd be in one already. Instead, you date a new stallion every two weeks."

Rarity's eyes hardened as they snapped to Spike. "And just what are you implying?"

"I—" Spike sighed. "I'm not implying anything. That's just how it is."

"Oh, no. That's not good enough." Rarity let out a steely laugh, her eyes betraying a hint of pain. "I heard what was behind that remark."

"Okay, fine," said Spike, "what I feel for you is more than some half-baked infatuation, alright? I don't want some fling out of pity. To have a tiniest bit of something more, only to lose it, would be—"

"Well that's always the risk, isn't it? You're talking like I don't know what love is!"

"What?" Spike shot a glance at Rarity, matching her gaze. "You mean all those stallions you've dated? Come on, that's..." Spike trailed away.

"So the truth comes out," Rarity hissed through clenched jaw. Spike didn't respond, looking off to the side. "I'm just a silly mare who casually throws herself at any colt who happens by, right? That I couldn't possibly know what it's like to be in love that's as pure and true and this one _you _feel."

Spike spun around at that. "No, Rarity. That's not what I—"

"Maybe you're right."

The lamp beside the couch sputtered as it approached the last of its fuel. The room began to darken, but the pony's and the dragon's eyes had been adjusting to the lower light. The far walls of the room became more distinct, the moonlight falling through the windows becoming perceptible.

"...No." Spike's voice cut through the quiet. "I can't... I mean, you're all over the place. Just a minute ago you were bawling your eyes out over that stallion, and now... I know you don't want to be with me like that. What you want is a storybook romance that I just can't give you. You want to be famous, and you definitely don't want to be stuck in Ponyville all your life—whereas I—"

"Don't talk like you know what I want!" Rarity snapped, voice cracking and her face contorting in the dim light. Then, as suddenly as it had come, it was gone, and tears came to her eyes. "Because I don't know what I want."

"But I still can't... how do I know you won't dump me in a week like all the others?"

"You said you would give me a hundred years of your life. I can promise you a little bit of mine." Rarity put her hoof to Spike's cheek.

"That's... you're being crazy. Are you hearing yourself? And I told you, that wasn't... it wasn't all for you. Or any of it really. I was really just—"

"Rest assured, I'm being selfish, too," said Rarity, leaning closer to the dragon. "I always am with you. I've never done a single thing that was just for you. I take complete advantage of your feelings." She put her other hoof down on the cushion beside him as she closed the space between them. "I don't know what I want, or even what I'll feel tomorrow. I am an awful pony so much of the time, and maybe now as well—or maybe especially now—but I know that being around you..." a hint of a smile touched her lips, "is better than not being around you." She stopped with a few inches between them. Spike hesitated, his hand static in the air before Rarity. The lamp winked out, casting them into a momentary darkness before their eyes fully adjusted, the hindering light now absent. The moonlight seemed to have come to reach where they were, outlining them and the two empty wine glasses on the table in a nearly invisible silver light.

Spike moved, grabbing onto Rarity and pulling her into a kiss. They parted, and then Spike kissed her again, more strongly. Rarity leaned back, pulling Spike over her. She looked up at him, and there was no longer anything to say. The dragon leaned forward to meet her, the light from the moon streaming in to illuminate them where they lay.

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_Inspired by the writer bookplayer's fic, _Best Young Flyer _(from fimfiction), in which she gives a snapshot of a future relationship between Rarity and Spike that really struck me:_

_"Rarity still designed out of the Carousel Boutique but also kept apartments in Canterlot and Manehattan, which she visited frequently for fashion shows and meetings with buyers. She seemed to have a new stallion every week, and every weekend she cried her eyes out to Spike about her most recent heartbreak over a bottle of wine. Dash wasn't sure what was going on there, but Spike was taller than a pony now and looking pretty sleek, so that was between him and Rarity." (Best Young Flyer, chapter 2)_


End file.
